


Contessa's Globes: Spider's Web

by GaleCrowley



Series: The Contessa's Globes [4]
Category: Marvel, Spider-Gwen (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Ending, Breastfeeding, F/F, Growth, Lactation Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 09:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleCrowley/pseuds/GaleCrowley
Summary: The Contessa stumbles into the world of Spiderwoman, Gwen Stacy. Spiderwoman seems to have the upper hand at first, but is she really prepared to handle a cunning foe like the Contessa (the answer is no. No, she's not.)





	Contessa's Globes: Spider's Web

The Contessa emerged from the dimensional portal onto a forest trail, filled with fallen autumn leaves and naked branches on trees.

“Hmm.” She checked her Dimensional Interfacer, the device that let her travel between realities with such ease. “Where exactly did I end up this time?” She held her Interfacer up, hoping it would reveal information to her.

A thwip sound came from behind her, and before she could react, Contessa’s arm was hit with webbing that glued her fingers together and sent her to the ground flat on her back. Another thwip tied her other wrist to the ground before she could do anything.

“Spiderman?” Contessa asked.

A costumed hero appeared in one of the tree branches, but it wasn’t Spiderman. Its costume was black and white, with black pants, a pattern on their white hoodie shirt, and webbing patterns beneath their armpits.

“Spiderwoman, actually.”

The Contessa squinted. She didn’t know this hero. She knew a lot of heroes, including Spiderman. Why, one time, when she’d be having something of a midlife crisis and made one of her many doomed attempts to give up supervillainry, she tried to interview for a position at the Daily Bugle. Jameson had turned her down with a carefully worded reply that made his reason seem arbitrary, but upon reflection, she realized it was because of her moonlighting dalliances with supervillainess that he somehow knew about that he rejected her.

But that was neither here nor there.

She focused on this new hero. A woman, judging from the build. Granted, it could have been a man, or someone whose gender identity varied from the heteronormative male/female duo, but the Contessa knew boobs when she saw them, and this person had boobs that pressed up slightly on their hoodie, however small.

“Usually when I see a woman in a tight, red leather outfit, I know it can’t mean anything good,” Spiderwoman said. She jumped down from the branches and landed next to Contessa. “Now spill. What were you doing out here? Who are you with?”

“I’m not with anyone,” the Contessa replied, which was actually truthful. She’d been alone on most of her transdimensional sojourns. “And I was just taking a walk and admiring the scenery when you bound me out of nowhere without giving me the chance to surrender. Honestly, that’s not very heroic of you, though I don’t mind a little bondage every now and then, but you could have given me a safeword first.”

“Uh-huh,” Spiderwoman said. “You’re going to be fun to deal with, I can tell.” Her voice exasperation.

“Darling, fun is my middle name. Are you sure you don’t want to try my fun bags?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m not even sure what you’re asking, and on second thought, I don’t think I want to know, but I’ll pass.”

“Pity,” Contessa sulked. Her hands were tied, so she couldn’t unzip and use her hypnotic boobs on her. She had a contingency plan for this sort of occasion, but it required for her back at least to be standing up straight. Granted, her powers were so strong she could get a little influence with her boobs covered up … but not much, and it would take a long time of exposure to them to get that much, and at most, she would get Spiderwoman to agree with her that the weather was nice.

“What’s this?” Spiderwoman asked, kneeling by the hand that held the Interfacer.

“Medical,” Contessa said. She really didn’t want Spiderwoman to take the Interfacer away from her. That was crucial to how she had her fun – slip into a universe, find a woman to corrupt, escape to another universe before consequences could happen. “I have diabetes and it monitors my blood sugar.”

“You don’t look like you have diabetes,” Spiderwoman said, her eyes on the Contessa’s chest.

“Ableist.”

“Yes, well ...” Spiderwoman took the Interfacer away, and Contessa cursed in her head. “Why don’t I just hold onto this for safekeeping, hmm?”

Spiderwoman webbed the Contessa up by the waist and proceeded to drag her away.

Contessa smirked. This was already an improvement. Now she just needed to wait for the right time to strike.

_Will she tie me up in a chair? Oh, please, I hope she ties me up in a chair._

* * *

 

Spiderwoman did, in fact, tie her up in a chair.

“So,” Spiderwoman said, sitting backwards on another chair opposite to her, “what were you doing in the woods?”

“Taking a walk when you decided to go vigilante on me and tie me up,” the Contessa answered disdainfully.

“Uh-huh.”

Contessa tried not to let her smirk show through. Now that she was upright, she had a little trick.

Her costume was custom made, and one does not get to be a successful supervillain without including a few surprises into that costume.

She inhaled sharply, taking a deep breath and sucking her chest in. Then she exhaled forcefully. Her top strained against the force of her massive mammaries.

There was a _pomph_ as the zipper flew off her top and her breasts spilled out, exposing her nipples. She had the costume designer build the zipper in such a way that if she took a heavy breath, the zipper would break, freeing her boobs and letting her work her magic.

“Um, what are you doing?” Spiderwoman asked, getting up from her chair.

“Trying to cool off,” Contessa answered. “It gets hot, you know, wearing all this leather.”

“I see. Well, I’m not exactly comfortable with you being topless like that, so I’m just going to, uh ...what? What’s going on?”

Spiderwoman halted, nodding her head like she asleep. She was caught in the glow of the Contessa’s nipples, rendering her much more vulnerable to suggestion.

“Oh, nothing,” Contessa assured her. “Just a little trick up my sleeve. Now, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Spider ...”

“Your real name.”

“Gwen.”

“Gwen,” the Contessa repeated. “Very good, Gwen. Do you know what’s happening right now, Gwen?”

“What?”

“I’m escaping,” the Contessa wiggled in her seat to sell the illusion. “I’m breaking my bonds, and I’m escaping. I got out of the chair, and I’m crawling out the window now. But that’s not all. I’ve infected you with a poison. It’s going to take effect in, oh, let’s say twenty-four hours, unless you can find me, hunt me down, and get the antidote from me. You should jump out the window and go after me. Hurry! Clock’s ticking.”

Gwen climbed up the window and jumped out, shooting a web towards the nearest building and swinging off into the distance.

The Contessa smirked to herself. She loved tricking heroes into seeing things that weren’t there. Gwen would be utterly convinced the Contessa had escaped, when in reality the Contessa hadn’t budged from her spot.

It was just like when she hypnotized a guy into thinking she was their preexisting girlfriend. She mused she should invert the trick sometime, make a woman think she was their existing husband. Maybe do both at once and have a threesome where the other two thought there were only two people involved.

She laughed at this then thought, then felt the spider webbing tighten around her wrists.

“Oh, right.”

She set to work on _actually_ escaping her bonds.

* * *

 

Gwen swung on her rope on her way through the city, thwipping from one building to the next.

_Gotta find the Contessa, before whatever she put in me takes effect,_ Gwen thought. _Where is she? Where could she gone?_

_You’ll want to hurry up, darling!_  The Contessa cooed into her head. _Has your bra always been this tight?_

_Go away. I’m trying to hunt you._

_Wouldn’t you want me to stay on the line so you could use it to track me, though?_ Contessa asked. _Oh, I think I see me! Down there._

Gwen looked down and saw a flash of red enter into a parking garage. She swung her web and landed there, taking stock of the situation.

“Okay, Contessa,” Gwen said to herself as she went inside, “come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Gwen searched the ground floor. She checked under the cars, the stairs, and the elevator. She had to jump onto the wall and cling there to avoid a truck looking for a parking space once or twice. But she couldn’t find the Contessa.

“Darn it. Where could she be?”

Gwen’s first thought was that she must be hiding on a different floor. Her second thought was that the Contessa was hiding under a car and she missed her somehow.

It would be dangerous for her to hide under a car. There was no telling if the person it belonged to might come back and start it up before she got a chance to get clear.

On the contrary, it would be a great way to greet Gwen when she found her, lying on her stomach, her huge boobs squished delightfully against the ground…

Gwen patted her head. She felt warm all of a sudden, and there was an uncomfortable, unfamiliar sensation in her nipples.

She tugged at her shoulder and adjusted her bra, hoping that would make the sensation go away. It seemed to work.

Turning her head around, she caught another whip of red going up the stairs.

“Contessa!” Gwen shouted. “There’s no use running!”

She fired a string at the door and pulled herself towards it. She ran up the stairs, hearing the Contessa’s footsteps but never seeing her.

Gwen got to the second floor and saw no trace of her quarry.

“Darn it! How does she keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

A strong hand gripped Gwen’s cheek and pulled her off to the side. She was awestruck to see not one, not two, but three Contessas staring down at her, one set to the left and the right of the one who was holding her.

“Let’s check out what’s under the hood, shall we?” the lead Contessa pulled Gwen’s hoodie and mask off.

“Ooh,” the left Contessa said. “She’s cute! I want a turn.”

“You’ll get yours,” the lead said. “Everyone will get exactly what they … want.”

“I’ll show you cute.” Gwen raised a fist, but the left Contessa reached over and grabbed her by the forearm. Her grip was like steel.

“Ah, ah. Behave, pet, or you won’t get your treat.”

“I don’t want any treats from-”

Gwen was stunned into silence when the lead Contessa unzipped her jacket and her massive jugs plopped out. Gwen couldn’t begin to imagine the confidence this woman must have to show off her naked tits like that to anyone and everyone.

The center Contessa wrapped an arm around Gwen’s neck and pulled her forward, pressing her nipple subtly into Gwen’s mouth. Gwen tried to push herself away, but pushing on the Contessa’s shoulder with only one free arm was like trying to knock over a tree without an axe.

The Contessa’s nipple squirted, filling Gwen’s mouth up with the richest, sweetest milk Gwen had ever tasted. It must have a muscle relaxant mixed into it, as her free arm instantly slumped down to her side.

“Ah,” the center Contessa moaned. “That’s nice. I’ve been … full for a while now, so it’s good to finally get some pressure relief. Doesn’t that feel good, Gwen? For me and you?”

“Okay, okay,” the left Contessa rushed to unzip herself. “You’ve had enough. Let me have a turn.”

“Of course.” The center Contessa gave Gwen over to her duplicate, who inserted her boob into Gwen just the same, feeding Gwen her milk.

Gwen’s flailed her arm with a half-finished thought of fighting back, but something scrambled the signal from her brain to her arm, and all she managed to do was flick her wrist back and forth some.

Were her boobs getting heavier?

Yes. Gwen could feel it. Her boobs were increasing in size. Her bra was getting more strained. It would snap if the Contessas weren’t careful.

“My turn!” the right one cheerfully called, and Gwen was handed off to her for another round of milking.

The center Contessa reached over, not content to just sit by the sidelines, and pressed her fingers up against Gwen’s crotch. She stroked and ran her finger over Gwen’s vagina as deep as she could through the clothing.

“Mm … mmm.” Gwen moaned as her slit winked. Her blue eyes turned pink. She was so full. She could feel the milk sloshing around inside her stomach like a thick cream. She felt like a milk jug.

The tingle she got in her nipples returned, and she knew now what it was. Milk. From her own boobs, leaking down the inside of her shirt.

“Mm … mm! My - my head!” Gwen groaned.

‘What about your head?” the center Contessa asked.

“It’s … my mind! It’s - it’s going!”

“Going… going.” the Contessa encouraged. “Going and …”

Gwen came, squirting hard and leaving a dark stain in her pants.

“ _Gone._ Welcome to the team, Spider-slut.”

A passing driver’s headlights fell on Gwen. They stopped, seeing Gwen, unmasked and orgasming for seemingly no reason, as there was nobody else there.

They stopped their car and stepped out.

“Um, excuse me, miss?” the driver said.

The door to the stairs opened, and the real Contessa came through, bare tits bouncing up and down as she strutted onto the scene.

“Scram, you,” the Contessa told the driver, working her hypnotic nipples on him. “Get back in your car and go back to what you were doing. And why not cream yourself while you’re at it by thinking about my big boobs?”

The man nodded. He got back into his car and drove away.

The Contessa shuddered, able to feel it even at a distance as he came gloriously, spurting thick white goo all over the insides of his pants.

_Good boy,_ the Contessa thought.

“Now for you,” the Contessa said, turning to Gwen. “It’s been fun messing with you, Gwen, but of course, hypnotizing you into _thinking_ that you’ve come under the effects of my milk is very different from _actually_ putting you under my control. Why don’t we fix that?”

The Contessa squeezed her boobs together until her nipples nearly touched.

“Come here, Gwen.”

Gwen did as instructed, mouth wide open as she placed them on the Contessa’s chest, taking both nipples into her mouth.

Contessa moaned with delight as she blasted Gwen’s mouth with both nipples, filling her up with milk in record time. Some of it spilled down Gwen’s chin.

Gwen moaned, her eyes turning pink for real. She jerked and spasmed as the wonderful, aphrodisiac milk filled her up and brought her to the brink of climax.

“Doesn’t that feel so good, Gwen? Doesn’t it feel so good to give in, to suck, and be a big boobie slut? You’ve always wanted it, Gwen. You’ve always loved big, squishy, jiggly, milk, _boooobs_ , but you’ve been too nice to _act_ on it. Until now. When we’re done here, I want you go out … and be a good little slut … and suck all the tits you can get your hands on. Suck them until they leak, just like yours do. Suck them until they _cum_. Cum and milk them both at the same time. Okay, my little boobie slut? Oh, yes. You’re a good, big-tittied bimbo slut, aren’t you? You can’t stop thinking about boobs. Big boobs, small boobs, boobs with pointy nipples, boobs that are firm, that are soft, but most of all, boobs that _milky_. Okay, Gwen?”

Gwen tensed up. The stain in her pants spread as she climaxed and squirted again, with two streaks of darkness appearing on her chest. Moments later, her bra and her hoodie gave out, and her now-huge tits popped out of her shirt, leaking and splashing milk.

“That’s a good girl,” the Contessa said, gently pulling her boobs out of Gwen’s mouth. Gwen fell to her knees, overwhelmed by the pleasure and not used to her (huge, sweet, milky) boobs feeling so heavy.

“Oh, before I go, I believe you have something that belongs to me,” Contessa said. “I would very much like it _back_.”

Contessa held her hand out.

Gwen reached into her suit and produced the desired item, the Contessa’s Dimensional Interfacer, and handed it over to its owner.

“Thank you very much, darling.” The Contessa turned and walked to the stairwell entrance. She turned back to Gwen and used her hand to make one of her boobs jiggle for Gwen’s pleasure. 

“And remember, darling; boobs!”

“Boobs,” Gwen agreed, milk still flowing out of her mouth. “Boobs, boobs, boobies!” She collapsed and rolled onto her back, playing with her tits, kneading and rubbing them.

Gwen lifted her tit up to her mouth and sucked on it, drinking the milk, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t … satisfying.

She heard what the Contessa said. She was a bimbo, a _slut_ , who loved boobs. So why weren’t her own boobs bringing her any pleasure?

_Not slutty enough,_ Gwen thought. _I need … to be … a good little horny …_ she trailed off, thinking about how to do that. She couldn’t just _think_ she was one, no. She had to actively be one. But how would she …?

“Mary Jane,” Gwen said, sitting upright with a dazed smile on her face. “I need to find Mary Jane!” Mary Jane was sexy. Mary Jane had big boobies.

Mary Jane surely wouldn’t mind if Gwen popped in on her unexpectedly and came into her mouth until she let Gwen suck her tits.

Gwen got to her feet. Having some wherewithal, she put her mask back on, then ran to the window and shot a web at a nearby building. She swung out of the parking garage to get in search of sweet, kind, _busty_ Mary Jane.

Gwen swung through the New York skyline, webbing buildings, struggling to hold as her huge, heaving jugs jiggled so gloriously, the milk, the milk sloshing inside her.

She landed on a building, sticking her fingers and feet to the building. She sighed. The pleasure was so much.

She pressed a finger over her nipple, and it was so sensitive, and it felt like she was touching her vagina through her nipple. She brushed her fingers over her nipples several times and moaned and moaned, a bit of drool escaping her throat.

“Oh!” She screamed, holding onto the window and pressing her body (and her wonderful bouncy squishy boobs) against the glass as she climaxed hard. Streaks of milk went running through her sweater.

Inside the building, a woman working at her desk job saw Gwen and was baffled to see her there and to see her cumming right there against the side of the building. But thanks to the transitive effects of the Contessa’s milk, she was soon halfheartedly stroking herself, turned on by the sight of Gwen’s leaking nipples.

Gwen panted and sighed, coming down from her high. Looking down at the ground, she saw two men standing there, looking at her with shock and awe, one of them holding up his phone and recording.

Gwen webbed herself to the building, then descended on the string like a pulley.

“Were you recording that?” Gwen asked.

“Uh,” the man stammered, not sure how to respond now that he’d been caught in the act.

“Let me see!” Gwen shot a web at his phone and pulled her towards her, ignoring his objections.

Gwen replayed the video. She was dismayed to see only showing her shaking from the back.

“No, no, no!” Gwen complained. “This is all wrong! Here.” She shot the web-covered phone back to him. “I’ll do it again, and you two can do another take.”

The men looked at each other, confused.

“You … _want_ us to record you?” the man asked.

“Yes! What, am I speaking French over here? Record my orgasm! Upload it to the internet! Share it with all your friends! I want everyone to know what an unparalleled goddess of sex I am. I want every nudie mag in the city to be begging for a photoshoot with me!”

“Uh, okay,” the man said. He held up the phone. “Ready.”

“Good, good,” Gwen said. She crossed her legs around the web and hung upside, stroking her nipples again, stroking them furiously and moaning.

The man who wasn’t recording began to move his hand towards his crotch to address his bulging erection.

“Yes, yes!” Gwen cheered him on, but the cameraman smacked his buddy on the shoulder to discourage him from making a fool out of himself.

Gwen was too distracted with her mounting high to express her disappointment. She gasped, swinging slightly on her web, and shrieked when the orgasm came. Cum spilled out of her overworked cunt and splattered against her already stressed pants, spreading the dark spot even further out from the center of her crotch.

“Did you get it?” Gwen asked. “Did you? I can do it again if you need to me to.”

“Uh, no, I think we got it,” the man said, as much wanting to help protect Gwen from herself as he was wanting to get away from this awkward encounter, unaware the magic of the milk would let her orgasm as many times as her bodily fluids would support for the next day and a half. “I got it. It’s fine. I’ll … I’ll get it uploaded for you.”

He placed a hand on his buddy’s back and turned him around and walked them away to quickly get them out of there as fast as possible.

Gwen, satisfied, return to her hunt.

* * *

 

Mary Jane and Felicia Hardy were walking down the street, talking shop and girl talk.

“So, anyway, I really liked the shoes, but purple is so not my color, but they didn’t have them in any other colors, so I was at a loss.”

“Isn’t that just the worst?” Felicia asked.

“Tell me about it! When-”

A string of web latched onto Mary Jane’s shoulders and snatched her up into the air.

“Mary Jane!” Felicia shouted in alarm. She needn’t have worried, as seconds later another string of web came and picked her up too.

Everything around Felicia became a blur as she was carried through the air, and it was several minutes before she was allowed to be still, deposited into a large spider web like the ones weaved by the man-eating spiders of Amazonian legend.

“What – huh – who?” Felicia stammered. She regained her bearings, blinked twice, and was stunned to see Mary Jane cocooned up opposite her, while Gwen hung from the ceiling by a strand of spider silk, with her mask off and her tits out.

“Gwen?” Felicia asked. “What’s going on?”

Gwen answered only with a giggle. A series of pink lines were in her eyes, like they were bloodshot.

“I’m so glad you two could join me,” Gwen said. She swung towards Mary Jane. Droplets of milk flew off her nipples in flight.

“Gwen?” Felicia asked. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Gwen said, dropping off the silk and stalking over to Mary Jane. “I’ve just finally decided to be the slut I was always meant to be.”

“The ...” Felicia blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing. “The what with the who now?”

“Open up!” Gwen teased, ripping apart her own costume to make a hole for her cunt. She straddled Mary Jane’s neck with her thighs and pressed her pussy against MJ’s mouth.

“Mary Jane!” Felicia called. “Gwen, stop! You’re sick!”

“No,” Gwen said. “I’m cured. Ooh ...”

Gwen closed her eyes and relaxed. She came and squirted straight into Mary Jane’s mouth. Some of it spilled and dripped down her chin.

“MJ!” Felicia called. “MJ, can you hear me? Don’t let her do this to you!”

Gwen stood up. Cum dribbled out of her like a waterfall.Mary Jane laid there with a big smile on her face. She twitched and spasmed, lolling her cum drenched tongue out while caught in orgasm herself. Juices oozed out from the zipper on her beige pants.

“MJ?” Felicia squeaked with mounting fear.

MJ only replied with a moan.

Gwen chuckled and went over to Felica.

“You can’t fool me, Felica,” Gwen said. “I know you’re the busty supervillain known as Black Cat! And she has way bigger boobies than you, so this must be ...”

Gwen reached down and tore a hole in Felicia's shirt with her bare hands. She lifted up Felica’s pink bra and took out sheets from her, and Felicia's boobs sprang back to her natural shape.

“Just as I thought,” Gwen said, holding up the fake tissue. “Padding. What I don’t understand is why you would want to hide your huge, gorgeous boobs from the rest of the world.”

“Well, like you said,” Felicia said, “I’m the Black Cat, and if our bust sizes are different, then we clearly can’t be the same person, can we?”

“True! Too bad I’m too smart for you,” Gwen said. “Now … it’s your turn.”

“Oh no you don’t! Felicia said, sounding braver than she felt. She was tied up. There was nothing 

she could. Her strength, powerful though it was, wasn’t enough to break Gwen’s webs.

Soon, Gwen would do … whatever it was she did to Mary Jane to her too, and then she’d also have that ditzy smile on her face.

“Open up, you busty sex kitten, you!”

Gwen straddled Felicia’s face. Felicia tried to tuck her lips in to keep the cum from getting through, but it wasn’t enough. Gwen’s squirt was so forceful it punched through her lips and shot straight down her throat.

At once, Felicia saw the appeal. Her mind felt like she was drunk and high at the same time, and the slow, steady climax she had helped sell her on accepting the high. Cum leaked out of her winking slit, and she thought she saw milk squeezing out from her nipples, but she was too drugged up to pay much attention.

Gwen got down and took Felicia’s nipple into her mouth, sucking it and moaning while mentally praising Felicia’s boobs for being so _big_ and so _milky_. She and MJ were going to make perfect dolls for Gwen to play with …

Gwen later let them after having her fun with them, but they still wanted more. They tried to go back to their daily lives, but they were haunted by the pleasure.

Thankfully, every now and again Gwen would pop back in, web them up, and take them somewhere they could cum and milk each other in equal measure.

* * *

 

Some days later, the Contessa sat in an old hotel with the radio playing.

“It has been three days since our beloved Spiderwoman was replaced with an impostor,” the host reported. “Women everywhere are to be advised to still be on their guard, as there is no telling when this fake Spiderwoman may strike in order to have another, er, partner to bed with. Be advised.”

The Contessa doubled over laughing and fell out of her chair.

“They think she’s an _impostor!_ They have so much faith in their ‘hero’ they can’t even imagine that she became the horny slut I’ve turned her into! That’s priceless! Oh.” She wiped a tear away from her eye.

“Well, I think I’ve risked being here long enough,” she said, and pulled out the Interfacer. “Time to find another hero to corrupt … though I don’t think any of them could be as funny as people thinking she’s an impostor ...”

Still laughing, the Contessa set the Interfacer to her next set of coordinates.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I had intended for the next installment of Contessa's Globes to be a Ben 10 story, but I kind of ran out of steam on that way.
> 
> Here's what happened on the Ben 10; as I was writing it, I decided to skip the boring bits and get to the good parts ... and now I need to go back and write in the boring-but-necessary parts for exposition and such. And I have been putting that off.
> 
> So, unrelated, a few friends send me some fanart of Spidergwen, and who I was to say no?
> 
> (Also yes the fact that there's a Spiderman movie coming out that I could technically hang onto the coattails to promote my brand may have something to do with it.)


End file.
